A Year of Gratitude – March 2, 2024

I found my gratitude while snuggled up on the couch with Penny Lane today. For me, giving myself permission to just sit on the couch under a blanket next to my dog for an hour is reason enough for gratitude. I don’t often sit down during the day. There’s always so much to do and today had a long list of to dos I needed to work through.

But for some reason, I just wanted to join Penny on the couch. She looked so cozy. It was rainy and damp, grey and dreary outside. I had a new knitting pattern to work on and the farmhouse was quiet except for the white noise from the pellet stove just past the couch where Penny was napping.

I went against my usual routine. I grabbed my knitting basket, pulled back a corner of the blanket, and got comfy. Penny Lane picked up her head, moved closer to me, and let out a heavy sigh. I adjusted her blanket for her, covering her up just the way she likes to be, and watched as she closed her eyes. Her breathing became rhythmic, slow, and deep. She was snoring softly moments later.

I picked up my knitting and worked on it for a bit. The quiet tapping of my bamboo circular needles against the fan of the pellet stove and Penny’s snores making for the soundtrack of the moment. After a few rows, I put my knitting down. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. I relaxed and just focused on my breathing.

It wasn’t a traditional meditation, but it was my meditation today. I listened to my breathing, I focused on the feeling of each breath and on relaxing a bit with each breath in and out. After a few minutes, I opened my eyes. I looked at the sleeping dog beside me and then my eyes traveled to the top of the mantel over the old hearth where the pellet stove sits.

My eyes looked at the little string of lights that help to make this room feel a bit brighter during these long winter months. I saw the little bird’s nest I found amongst the thorny raspberry canes one summer. I looked at the antique Mason jars I collected from local antique shops over the years and rocks from trips to Maine’s rocky coastline beaches. I thought about moments when I used to help inquisitive little children discover faraway countries by looking for them on the globe.

Then my eyes landed on the old-fashioned silver clock that used to reside in my children’s bedrooms when they were small. That gentle ticking sound was the sound I listened to every night when I put them to bed. It was the sound that I listened to while rocking them back to sleep after scary dreams. It was the sound that faded into the distance as I read them books each and every night.

Today, that clock’s ticking seemed to be reminding me of all those warm memories of when they were small. Those were such precious years. I remember feeling then that I was so busy, that there was so much to do just to try and keep pace. Yet I made time each night to put them to bed, to read to them, to tell them stories. I am so very glad that I did.

Time is the only commodity we can’t make more of. You can’t buy it. You can’t choose how much you have of it. You can only decide how you spend it.

Perhaps that clock’s ticking helped me to decide to take time for myself today. Maybe somewhere deep inside, in a place I hadn’t thought about, I knew that I needed to make a bit of time for me just like I used to make time for them. I’m so very glad that I did.

I hope that you found time in your busy day to breathe deep and to take a moment for yourself.  If not, the day isn’t over quite yet. There’s still time to give yourself a quiet moment. I hope that you will.

This post is part of our A Year of Gratitude Series. You can find the introduction, inspiration, and entire year’s gratitude’s posts here.